


I'll Ruin You

by YohKoBennington



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awesome Pepper Potts, M/M, mention of past alcoholism, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YohKoBennington/pseuds/YohKoBennington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things between Steve and Tony aren't in the best of places after a big fight. But soon Steve discovers that the fight is just the top of the iceberg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Ruin You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first round of TowerParty @LJ. For the prompt I was tagged with: _"You get what anybody gets - you get a lifetime." (Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 1)_
> 
>  
> 
> **While I'm not warning about Major Character Death, this is tagged with Terminal Illness, so read at your own discretion.**
> 
>  
> 
> Beta'd by alexisJane, any remaining mistakes are mine.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee. It's already lukewarm from sitting untouched while he got lost inside his head. His thumb plays nervously with the gold ring on his finger, as he looks through the window to the streets of New York City down below. Buying an apartment on the top floor was Tony's idea, and while Steve could had care less which they got, he learned to appreciate not having neighbors above them being noisy through the night. It also has the best view of the city, perfect for idle hours with his pencil tracing the different shapes in the pages his sketchbook.

Thinking about Tony brings a pang to his chest, painful enough that he subconsciously rubs it to make it go away. The apartment, their home, feels empty. Steve never realized until this past week, how much the place came to life with Tony there, not because he doesn't know how loud and vibrant Tony could be, but because at some point Tony didn't spend too much time in it anymore— enough that Steve forgot.

And that was what broke everything apart.

They had their problems before. Petty fights that ended up in apologies and make up sex. They didn't happened too often, and to Steve it always was just something you had to deal with when you make the choice of spending the rest of your life with one person; characters ought to clash once in a while.

Or so he thought, because the moment they have their biggest fight ever, everything that was supposed to be forgiven and forgotten came back to the surface, and neither wasted time on throwing things at each other faces. The worst thing about loving someone and knowing them like the palm of your hand is when you use that knowledge to hurt where it really will leave a scar.

Steve regrets almost everything he said. But he doesn't regret the reason the fight happened. He just wishes things had gone in a way where Tony didn't walked out of this place, and they didn't end up not speaking to each other for a week. Steve is man enough to admit that the first days he was stubborn and stood his ground— after all Tony was the one in the wrong here. But Tony is just as stubborn, if not more so, and this is how they stand now, in a marital limbo that Steve is not sure where it is going.

Part of him wants to give in and ask Tony to come back.

Part of him wants to punch Tony in the face.

The doorbell seems louder than normal when it rings, startling Steve. He opens the door, and isn't too surprised to find Pepper in the other side. He lets her in, and sits back on the stool where he's been nursing his cold coffee, and stewed feelings.

Pepper sits on the stool next to him, and regards him without saying a word. Until Steve exhales losing his internal battle with what his brain wants, and his heart yearns.

“How is he?”

“You could ask him that yourself.”

Steve grinds his teeth, stopping himself from snarling back at her. None of this situation is her fault, and Pepper has always been the neutral person between him and Tony. She never chooses sides, even though she has known Tony longer than Steve.

Pepper sighs, exasperated. “Or you could go see him.”

Steve looks up at that. “I don't know where he is.” Pepper gives him a knowing look. “But you obviously do.” Steve starts playing with his wedding ring again. “I don't know if that's a good idea Peps.”

“You still want to hurt him?” She asks amused. “I understand. I've smacked him on the head every day that he hasn't call you.”

Steve chuckles sadly.

Pepper rests her hand over Steve's. “You remember how it was when Tony was fighting his alcoholism?”

Steve loses his breath for a second. “He's not—“

“He's still sober.” Pepper assures. “I'm just bring it up because of how he was acting during the treatment.”

Steve remembers every single minute. It's carved in his brain like a glaring red warning sign to stop it from happening again. It was hell for Tony; from when everything started, to when Tony hit rock bottom and decided he did needed help, to going through the detox. And through all of it, he kept pushing Steve away. Steve didn't let him of course. He loved Tony enough then that even when he could have walked out because they weren't married yet and had they barely been dating for six months, the last thing Steve wanted was to leave Tony and move on.

It's all in the past now, and Steve is proud to say that at least he didn't bring that up during the fight. He would have never forgiven himself if he had. “What does that have to do with all of this?”

“What Tony has been doing to you has no excuse, but believe me when I say, he has a reason, even when he's going about it in all the wrong ways, again,” she adds morosely, avoiding the question.

Steve frowns, her tone of voice dumping lead inside his chest. “Pepper, what are you talking about?”

“I would tell you Steve, you know I would. But it's not my place, and in this, I've to respect Tony's wishes.”

Steve wants to protest, convince Pepper to just tell him what's going on. But he refuses to put her in such position, she deserves better, no matter how much he's itching under his skin to find out. He'll only know if he confronts Tony, he's going to make sure he doesn't leave without knowing everything.

“Where is he?”

Pepper smiles softly. “Beach house.”

 

~*~

 

Two years into their marriage, Steve surprised Tony with the beach house. The idea behind it was to have a place were they could leave the city noise and their busy jobs responsibilities for a while, and just relax together. After Tony's detox, Steve brought him here, and they stayed until both were ready to go back to their normal lives.

It's the middle of September, and the weather up in Salisbury Beach is fighting between holding onto the warmth of the summer, and the first vestiges of the cold autumn. The house is in the most quiet part, where only private properties align against the sandy coast.

Steve climbs the porch stairs, and for a minute he hesitates in front of the white door wondering whether to knock or just come in. He quickly decides to use his copy of the key because this is his house too, and it's his husband on the other side of that door.

The house is oppressively quiet, the sound of the waves crashing in the backyard echoing freely through the walls. The lack of life signs that should be evident on the first floor, with Tony having spent the week here, twists his gut. There should be things lying around everywhere because Tony has a hard time putting things back to where they belong— and Steve has learned to let that slide because you gotta choose your battles. Instead it's like a ghost has been staying here.

“Tony?” Steve calls, his voice joining the echo of the waves. He gets no answer. Once he's gone to every single part of the house— finally finding some sign of life in the unmade bed and clothes littering the floor in their bedroom—and doesn't find him, Steve walks out to the back porch. He scans the beach, shadowing his eyes with one hand to see better over the glare of the sun. But it seems the beach is empty too.

Steve climbs down the stairs, not bothering to take his sneakers off as he starts walking on the sand. He gets close enough to the water's edge that he can feel the salty spray of the ocean on his skin, and scans the beach once more. Maybe Tony is on a food run, there's no reason for Steve to panic.

“You're not supposed to walk on the sand with shoes on.” Tony's soft teasing voice makes Steve turn around quickly. “You're going to get sand all over the house.”

During the past year there have been periods of time where they wouldn't see each other for even a month. But Steve never go used to not seeing Tony every day, and they at least would talk on the phone. So now, after not seeing or hearing him for a week, his heart leaps to his throat and his chest constricts with how much he missed him. Steve takes in everything, like a person dying of thirst in the desert. The full beard covering his face, his messy hair dancing to the cadence of the wind, the dark purple circles under his eyes. How he's wearing a wool sweater in this semi-warm weather, and said sweater hangs way too big on him, just as his jeans pool loosely over his bare feet.

Steve finds himself trying to remember if any of this was there before this week, if he missed seeing how tired Tony looks right now. But he can't come up with any image where he saw this, even for a minute. And it dawns on him that all of it might had been there for a while, except Tony is pretty good a disguising this sort of thing. He's done it before in his alcohol soaked period.

Tony fidgets, uncomfortable in the silence. “Did you come here just to stare at me like a creep, or is there something you need? Because I've better things to do than a staring contest.” He asks annoyance barely concealed, as he presses his hands deep inside his jeans pockets.

Steve sees it for what it is: deflection.

“I came to talk to you,” Steve finally says. “Can we go back inside?” He adds, seeing how a shiver runs through Tony's body.

Tony shrugs, and turns to head back. Steve follows him, and takes his sneakers off before stepping inside the kitchen.

Tony reaches for the fridge door, and takes the jug of water out. “Want something to drink? I must warn you that all I can offer is water and juice.”

Steve's shoulders relax a little. Even after what Pepper said, the fear that Tony had relapsed nudged inside his brain, and looking at Tony's weight lost, it grew stronger. But there's no sign of alcohol in the house — he checked while searching for Tony— and Tony's offer gives him complete relief. “No, I'm fine.”

Tony grabs a glass from the counter, and serves himself some water, leaving the jug on the counter. He casually walks away from where Steve is standing, until the dining table is between them. Steve tries not to let that bother him, he's not here to fight, they have done enough of that already.

“So, what do you wanna talk about? You want a divorce?” Tony asks, matter-of-factly. As if the implication of what he just said doesn't matter. As if it wouldn't destroy a life they built together through thick and thin. As if they never loved each other to begin with.

The weight inside Steve's chest grows heavier. “Is that what you want?”

Tony lowers his eyes, avoiding looking at him, hiding from Steve. He puts the glass of water down on the table. “I want whatever makes you happy, Steve.”

There's a waver on his voice, and if Steve didn't know already what Tony is trying to do, that would had been a dead giveaway.

“You know very well I don't believe in giving up that easily.”

Tony glances up slowly. “Even when it's the best thing for you?”

“Who says that's the case? You?” Steve grouses, doing his best to stay calm. “Because I'm pretty sure I know what it's best for me and what I want, and divorcing you is not in that category.” He rounds the table, not caring how Tony tenses and takes a step back. “You think I can't see what you're doing?”

“I don't know—“

“Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Tony.” Steve bites. “I'm going to admit you're good, you had me fooled for a while there. But I'm done with it. Whatever is happening, you better start telling me right now because no matter how much you try, I'm not going away.”

Tony juts his chin defiantly, but the shine in his eyes and his erratic breathing breaks all pretense of looking brave. Steve takes the chance to hold his arms, tries not to flinch as his fingers connect with bones through the fabric of the sweater, to reassure Tony and stop him from fleeting again.

“Please,” Steve pleads. “I've seen you in your worst hour Tony, and I'm still here. What are you afraid of?”

“I'm not afraid.”

“Then why won't you tell me?”

“Because I'm not doing this to you again!” Tony pushes him away, getting loose from Steve's hands.

Steve looks at him surprised, and confused. He doesn't know what to feel anymore.

Tony combs a shaking hand through his hair, regret painted on his face. “Sorry, I— shit.” He exhales. “I don't want to fight, okay?” he says dejected.

“What do you meant by that? What won't you do to me again?”

Tony turns to rest his hands over a chair. He looks even more tired than before. “Steve please stop asking, and just go. Please, I'm begging you.”

“No. I'll do anything for you, except that.”

“Why?”

Steve purses his lips. “You _know_ why.”

“If I told you I don't love you, would you leave?”

“I wouldn't believe that for a second.”

Tony shoulders slump. “You pigheaded—.“ He sighs, turning to face Steve. “I'm sick.”

Steve figured that one out just by seeing Tony. It still stings to hear him say it. It still makes his heart beat faster with dread. “How sick?”

Tony rubs his hand over his thigh nervously. “Cancer. In the pancreas.” He laughs humorlessly. “I guess I deserve that one.”

Steve feels his world tilt out of axis. This can't be happening, this has to be a bad dream. “Jesus, Tony.” It's too much. He thought he was coming here to reconcile with Tony. He never expected this.

Tony shrugs.

Steve wants to hold him, tell him this isn't a death sentence. He can fight this, people can survive cancer. If anybody can fight it, it's Tony, because he can be in the deepest and crappiest pit, but Tony doesn't stop fighting. And then, a spark of wariness clouds all the positive thoughts. He's afraid to say what he's going to ask next. “How long have you known?”

Tony stares at him right in the eyes, now done with hiding. “A year.”

Steve's body shivers involuntary. “All the business trips?”

“I was getting chemo, and then recovering from it so when I got back—“

“I wouldn't suspect anything.”

Tony has the decency of looking guilty.

Steve sags, suddenly there's no enough air in the room. He holds himself steady with a chair. “How could you hide this from me?” he whispers, pained and disappointed.

“Because I've taken enough from you.” Tony swallows, and folds his arms over his chest. “I couldn't make you go through something like this again, Steve.”

Steve pulls away from the chair, getting in Tony's space. “But I'm your husband. We made a promise, Tony. In sickness and health. It doesn't say anywhere the amount of bad times I get to go through with you. If you're sick, you don't go and hide it from me, to deal with it all alone!”

“Steve.” Tony interjects, but seems lost of words.

Steve moves away, and starts pacing, too many emotions trying to explode from him. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes, after it was over.” Tony answers quickly, as if afraid that a minute of silence would be the trigger of a war. “That was the plan, anyways.” He adds, tone completely tired out.

Steve stops pacing. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and waits for the bomb to go off.

Tony moves closer, and holds Steve's hand. “You've got to believe that I was going to come clean. My only intention was for you to not stop living your life so you could share my burden. I wanted to deal with it, and then move on.” He rest his head on Steve's bicep. “But I'm not going to get better, Steve.”

Steve squeezes Tony's hand. No. Everything but this. “Are you saying that you're going to die, Tony?” He turns to face him, and he can see the answer in Tony's eyes.

“I'm sorry.”

Steve eyes sting and a pained breath escapes from deep inside his soul. Every brick of his life, collapsing to the ground, becoming dust that the wind erases. After what happened with the rehabilitation, whenever his mind strayed to sad thoughts, the worst thing he could think about was losing Tony. Just thinking about it was too painful to stay inside his head, and he had to distract himself with something to stop thinking about it.

There's nothing that can distract him now from his worse nightmare becoming true.

Tony reaches up, soft pad of his fingers wiping away the tears on Steve's cheeks. “I wish I could do something to avoid causing you this pain.”

“Tony, tell me you weren't planning on dying alone. Or that the fight wasn't just a ruse to keep me away from you. Tell me, you didn't choose to die before we could fix it, leaving with my last words being unkind.”

Tony shakes his head. “I'm an idiot with the worse kind of plans, but I'm not cruel.” He smiles sadly. “The fight just happened, and I guess it was brewing for quite some time after how much I had been avoiding you the whole year.” He places his hand over Steve's beating heart. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you, and you showing up here— I still wasn't ready to say it out loud.”

“You should have told me from the beginning.” There's no reproach in Steve's voice anymore, it wouldn't change the past or make things better.

“I know.” Tony concedes, then points at himself. “Idiot with terrible plans.” He jokes.

Steve chuckles sadly. He holds Tony's face, his beard prickling Steve's hands, and he can't stop thinking about how much he loves him and how any of this is fair. “Are you sure there's nothing we can do?”

“I tried everything. This fucker won't quit.” Tony's voice breaks. He's been so calm and strong until now, where Steve can see him starting to crumble over the weight of it all.

Steve hugs him then, careful to not hurt Tony's brittle body, but needing to feel his heat. His heart still beating against his, his breath huffing on his neck as Tony cries silently.

Steve holds him, and he promises himself that whatever time he has left with Tony, he'll never stop.

 

**~Fin~**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ♥


End file.
